Earthquake (17 page)

Benson wrenches his
arm away from Thomas. “Get your hands off me. I’m not your son. Not anymore.”

“I don’t give a damn what you think of me,” Thomas hisses, grabbing him again, pulling him close in a sham embrace, and I barely hear the words Thomas rasps into his ear. “Shut the hell up or you are going to
ruin everything
.” Something in Thomas’s tone makes Benson still. Makes Alanna and me still too. A deadly edge that reminds me that I’ve only ever seen one side of this man.

The security people look at me, and I nod with as much decisiveness as I can muster. They appear wary, but ultimately retreat. As soon as the door closes, Thomas crosses his arms over his chest and says, “Would you like to tell me just what the hell you’re doing here?”

“How about you tell me what the hell
you
are doing here?” Benson retorts.

Alanna snorts beside me. “Boys,” she whispers.

They stand facing each other, and I see the resemblance now. I wouldn’t have noticed the similarities between them without knowing to look, but they’re both tall and have the same hair and eyes, and it makes me wonder if—subconsciously—that’s why I liked Thomas more easily than Alanna, even
after
I knew her secret. Their profiles are similar as they stand, so tense, the blood smear on Thomas’s face looking incredibly macabre. Benson is still lanky and thin, but in Thomas I can see the way he’ll look when he’s older and his shoulders fill out.

And I am
not
disappointed. I cough to cover my completely inappropriate grin.

The small room is filling with a tension so thick it seems to hold our bodies in suspension, when a click from the door releases the spell and we all turn with soft gasps.

It’s Logan.

“Hell’s sake,” Alanna says. “Come in and close the door.”

Logan steps fully into the room, and my heart slows.

Both of them. Together. Like worlds colliding, and the only possible result is that they crash and shatter.

I hear a clatter and a yelp and imagine my thoughts brought to life as I whirl back to where Benson has backed up and tripped over his chair. His face is white as he stares at Logan from where he lies sprawled on the floor. I’d forgotten that the last time Benson saw Logan’s face it was in a two-hundred-year-old newspaper.

“What’s going on?” Logan says quietly, taking in the expressions of dismay all around him. So much for keeping everything on the down low by meeting in a freaking prison.

“My
son
apparently decided to take one look at me and hit me in the face,” Thomas says simply, as though that were all the explanation required.

“Then why is he staring at
me
like I’m a ghost?” Logan asks.

“Because you kind of are,” I say. “The last time he saw you it was in a newspaper article about you as Quinn Avery.”

Logan’s eyes furrow. “You told him about Quinn Avery?” He’s asking me, but he’s glaring at Benson.

I swallow hard. I guess I didn’t really explain everything last night. “Because he helped me find you.” I hope I sound calm. Casual.

Logan just sighs in frustration . . . and maybe a touch of defeat.

“Oh no,” Thomas says. “Please don’t tell me you’re the library friend from Portsmouth.”

Benson wordlessly spreads his hands out to the side in a
here-I-am
gesture.

Thomas glances at Alanna. “This is why we should have insisted on photos. A simple description clearly doesn’t cut it. If Mark and Sammi had sent us a photo I’d have realized it was Benson.”

“This is
Benson
?” Alanna asks, wonder in her eyes. “Benson, I—”

“You are the last person I want to hear
anything
from,” Benson says, cutting her off.

“Yeah, maybe you should leave, Alanna,” I say, letting myself sound bossy and superior. “We have a
lot
to talk about. I’m sure Thomas told you why you were supposed to come, but I think you’re no longer wanted in this room.”
Please, please, please
let her understand. When I told Thomas I needed her to be a distraction I meant, like, making noise in here or something while we discussed biochemistry. Now I seriously need her to divert the security people’s attention and keep them from hearing
anything
. Because I guarantee, after
that
little stunt, they’re all paying attention on the other side of the two-way mirror.

Her eyes instantly change back into those of Alanna in disguise. “Fine,” she snaps, sounding much like a two-year-old.
Thank goodness.
“But I’m not
leaving
. I’ll be out there.” She points at the two-way mirror, and I breathe a sigh of relief. “And I am
not
happy with you!” she shrieks as the door opens for her.

“Nice,” Benson says, his voice pure acid. “Good choice,
Dad
.”

I see Thomas’s jaw tighten, his instinct to defend Alanna—to let Benson know that whole thing was a sham. A facade. But after a second he calms down.

“Sammi never said your name,” Thomas says, sounding angry but in control. “Maybe she didn’t know it. But she didn’t think you were important until you and Tavia
ran away
together, and then she just kept referring to you as the library boy.” I realize Thomas is starting with stuff it
probably
doesn’t hurt for the Curatoria to know. He takes a seat and gestures to me to make more chairs.

That’s right; they don’t know he’s a Creator.

“You ran away with him?” Logan asks, his eyes flashing as he turns to me now.

“It wasn’t like that.” I protest, but at a pained noise from Benson I amend, “Okay, it was kind of like that.”

“Tave!”

“Just sit!” I command, making a chair for him.

“I can’t believe that was
you
,” Thomas is still saying. “You’re working for
them
?”

“He’s not,” I say, turning away from Logan’s accusing eyes. “Not anymore.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Thomas scoffs.

“And what was I supposed to do when you abandoned us and Mom went
psycho
?” Benson snaps. “Do you have any idea what happened after you left us?”

“Wait, did you know he was a Reduciate when you
ran off with him
?” Logan asks, more than a little caustically.

I shoot my eyes toward the two-way mirror, hoping Alanna is doing her job. This is not the kind of stuff I need spread all over the Curatoria headquarters.
“No, I
didn’t
know,” I say between clenched teeth, “and he’s not really. And to be honest, it kind of
is
Thomas’s fault!”

Finally everyone stops talking and just looks at me. “Okay, thirty-second story, and then we
move on
.” I point at Thomas. “
You
left your family, Benson’s mom went crazy and moved them all in with the Reduciates. Benson traded helping them get me for his freedom. When he realized he . . . he just couldn’t do it, it was too late, and everyone
died
. Okay?” I turn to Logan and add, almost pleading, “Then he was at the Reduciata prison with us and told the Curatoriates about the painting that gave
you
your memories back, just like I said before.

“And now he’s here and brought a whole lot of attention to me and may have ruined everything because he’s still as hot-tempered as he was when he was eight,” Thomas finishes for me, but now it’s in a whisper, and our heads are all close together.

“Wonder where I get
that
from,” Benson mutters.

Thomas glares but says nothing.

Fabulous. How am I going to confess that I arranged for everyone to meet here because I
trust
Benson?

And that they’re all going to have to trust him too?

“That’s
enough
,” I snap as quietly as I can. “With luck Alanna is throwing a huge fit behind that mirror and covering up everything we’re saying. But even she can’t hold them off for long. So listen to me, all of you. We are working on something big here. Something that may literally mean saving the entire world from destruction. I don’t care what kind of drama is in
all
of our pasts.” I swallow hard, knowing everything I’m saying applies to me as well. “We
have
to put it to the side. Everything,” I say, glaring at Benson specifically now. “Finding a cure for this virus—particularly having now seen the destruction that occurs when it kills an Earthbound—is more important than anything any of us are feeling.” My chin shakes, and I clamp my jaw down on it. “Myself included.”

The room is silent as Logan glares at me, Thomas glares at Benson, and Benson? Well, he glares at everyone. I realize he’s truly the loser here. He has no one. He’s not aware that Logan and I are having issues; all he knows is his estranged father is here, happy with his new wife, and I’m here, happy with my old lover.

I clear my throat, needing to end this awful tension. “Thomas, Benson actually brought me some intelligence from the Reduciates. That’s why we’re here—because he needs to be a part of this. I believe we can trust him.”

Thomas’s eyes dart to me, the temptation of something new pulling his attention away from the son he hasn’t seen in over ten years.

Oh please, please, please let Alanna be screeching at the top of her lungs right at this moment
,
I think to myself. Then finally I get it out.
“I’m immune.”

Thomas almost chokes in his surprise. “But . . . how . . . you’re sure?”

“I’ve tested it, and it’s true.” I explain what I did in the lab. “I feel like the thing with my blood should help,” I tell him. “But I don’t know how to
use
it.”

Thomas steeples his fingers and sways back and forth a few times.

“You’ve been looking for ways to directly disable the RNA?” he asks. When I nod he says, “Well, what if you isolated the proteins in your blood that repel the virus and then replicated them and inserted them into the former vaccine?”

“Would that work?”

“It’s the theory behind the new advances against AIDS. Scientists are making strides with that approach. I think it’s worth a shot.”

I worry my lip with my teeth for a few seconds before I say, “Should I tell Daniel?”

The silence again.

“I recommend no. He was the one who brought that girl to my practice forty years ago and then had me killed. I can’t believe that after that he would do
anything
good with this kind of information. Plus, if you don’t tell him, only
you
will be able to replicate your work.”

“That’s what I was thinking too.” It won’t be easy hiding it, but maybe . . . “Benson, is there anything else you overheard?”

“I wish. If there were I would tell you. Marianna just kept saying that you were immune and that they needed you and that they were going to start testing you immediately.”

“It’s something,” I say with a little smile. Enough to make him feel useful, not enough to make Logan feel spurned. It’s not an easy balance. “Okay, tell me what to look for,” I say to Thomas. I conjure up a notebook and pen, and Thomas begins drawing and explaining chemistry terms I barely understand.

“When you see it,” he says, pointing to his drawing, “you’ll recognize it.”

I shove the notebook into my pocket and take a deep breath. “I better get back. I told Daniel I’d work late tonight.” I didn’t eat much, but my stomach is roiling now, and I don’t think I could if I wanted to. Besides, the plate’s full of Benson’s favorite foods. I’ll leave it for him.

They open the cell door, and though one of the men looks askance at the food I left in there, I promise him it’s safe and ask them to leave it for Benson. Meanwhile, Thomas is doing a good job of pretending to pacify a grumpy Alanna, and Alanna is doing a damn good job of pretending to still be angry.

I do wonder what’s going through her head right now, after suddenly meeting her husband’s human child. The look in her eyes before Benson chewed her out suggests to me that she’d like the opportunity to get to know him. I’m not sure that will happen though.

Logan and I are about ten feet from the main entrance to the security wing when the doors burst open behind us and Alanna emerges in a huff, Thomas close behind. “That was terrifying,” she whispers the second the doors slam shut. “One second of silence at the wrong time . . .” Her voice trails off, and she shakes her head.

“Thanks for doing it,” I tell her. “Do you think they bought the charade?”

“Oh please, everyone in this place will believe
anything
I do as long as it’s repulsive or immature,” she says wearily. “It didn’t look like they were recording anything, just listening. And I refused to pipe down despite repeated requests to do so.”

“It’ll be over soon.”
One way or another.
“I have to get back to the lab. Thomas gave me some good ideas to work on. Thomas,” I look up at him, my voice barely audible, “if this works, we’ll have a vaccine
soon
. Maybe tomorrow, or the next day. And once we have it, I
have
to leave this place—Logan and I both. Will . . . will you be coming with us?”

“Absolutely,” Thomas says with fervor.

“Alanna?”

“I wish I could have left months ago.”

So simple. So easy. One in mind and purpose. I wish my life were that way.

“When the time comes to leave, I think it will be fast,” I warn. “And dangerous. I don’t believe that Daniel has any intention of actually letting me go. We may have to fight our way out. Still want in?”

“Of course. We’ve always had escape plans in place—we’ll just broaden one.”

“Thank you.” I chance a quick glance at Logan. “I’ll be bringing Benson with me. I got him into this—it’s only fair that I pull him out as well.”

“That does seem the decent thing to do,” Thomas says tightly, and at least Logan doesn’t voice a protest.

“I expect you to do everything you can to protect him as you would me.”

“He’s my son, Tavia.”

“That hasn’t mattered for the last ten years, has it?”

His silence tells me my words are justified.

“You have to accept that you bear some responsibility for whom he was forced to become,” I say softly.